As the years of music's existence drag on, different eras and time periods are increasingly cannibalized and morphed into new, unsteady amalgams. Profoundly specific subgenres spring up with the rapacious frequency of weeds through cracks in the sidewalk. Musical ground-breakers are summoned up and recontextualized in the manner of Fred Astaire's vacuuming hologram. This self-referential, post-modern understanding of the creative process makes for an exciting, albeit hazy and exhaustively accelerated, period in music.

While the '70s and '80s are frequent touchstones among new artists, some look further into the past to evoke artists of the '30s and '40s. People like Jolie Holland and her dusty, yellowed croon aim to emulate the haunting sounds that once floated from the conical horn of a Victrola. But even with this fine imitation, it is still translated through the hindsight of some 70 years, and the not insignificant factor of original songwriting.

As Boy and Bean, Luke and Amber Short revere this time period in a way that remains strangely unconsidered in the indie scene: through cover songs. Yes, Boy and Bean are a cover band. Whatever images that phrase dredges up in your mind - of uninspired pretenders with cheekily outmoded costumes and affectations - should be summarily dismissed. The desire Boy and Bean have for covering these songs does not come from a place of aspiring to the thrones of these legendary singers, or of a desire to just wear their skin for the moments that they perform on stage, but out of a pure desire to simply sing these songs. It's the songs that they love.

Focusing on the Depression-era music of the '20s, '30s and '40s, the trio of Boy and Bean err on the faithful side of their cover songs, with Luke and Amber's voices joining in delicately harmonious duets. There's an unmistakable sense of joy to be heard in their performance - a kind of ease and fun that comes out of performing beloved songs that you know very well. There's little in the way of rock ‘n' roll fronting or self-mythologizing. What you hear is what you get, and it is delivered in a light and sprightly manner by way of the sparse arrangement of guitar, upright bass and two loving voices.

"(My wife Amber and I) were merchant marines for a couple years," says Luke Short. "Every time we'd get off the ship, we'd be home for six or 10 months at a time. The last time we did it, we were like, ‘We should start doing something, anything else to make money other than this.' So, we started busking on the streets of Portland, and people started liking it. Eventually, we were able to make money doing that. ... We both really like these old '20s and '30s songs, and there weren't a lot of people doing it. So, we decided to give it a go, in our own way."

The Boy and Bean project, which eventually picked up a third member in the form of Andrew Jones on upright bass, was a departure from Luke's other band, the whimsical, folk-rock-ish Eggplant. With Eggplant serving as an outlet for Luke's original material, Boy and Bean became a nourishing comfort for Luke and Amber's love of old-time music. But, after years of performing and recording demos, Boy and Bean still didn't have an album.

Responding to the demand for a Boy and Bean release that had been building over the years, Luke Short's mother suggested the band post on Kickstarter - a website that allows artists and businesses to pitch ideas and raise funds for a project; if the proposed goal dollar amount is not reached or exceeded by a certain time, the donors do not have to pay what they have pledged. After resisting for a time, Boy and Bean created a promotional video and wrote a bio about themselves and the goal that they were aiming to achieve (creating an album and covering all the costs that go along with that) and posted on Kickstarter.

Their aim was $2,000, which would cover the costs of clearing the rights to songs, studio time, engineering and duplication of albums. It was a modest goal, considering how expensive it is to make a proper studio album, especially considering the cost of insuring that the band wouldn't be sued for covering the songs.

"I didn't really expect that it would work," says Luke Short with a laugh.

After posting on Kickstarter, Boy and Bean reached their goal of $2,000 in an astonishing three days. And even after reaching the target, donations continued to pour in. As of this writing, over twice the requested amount has been donated - a remarkable $4,123. Part of this was due to Kickstarter apparently taking a shine to the band and featuring them on the front page of the site's music section.

Additionally, part of it probably has to do with the promotional video, in which Luke and Amber duet on the charming classic, "What a Little Moonlight Can Do." The enthusiasm with which they perform is palpable, and liable to inspire enthusiasm in others.

Now, several months later, the record has been completed and was released on April 2. Boy and Bean's eponymous debut features tracks like the swooning "Tonight You Belong to Me"; the strutting "Jungle Fever"; the raucous tell-off ode, "When I Get Low I Get High"; and the melancholy mourner, "Smoke Rings."

"(Since the release of the album), we've been getting lots of gigs, lots of private gigs," says Luke Short. "People really seem to like the album. Been selling lots of them. Even to other countries, somehow. Not really sure how that's happening."

As for the extra money raised by the Kickstarter post, Luke Short says the money will go straight into the Boy and Bean tour fund. With any luck, these recent successes will continue in a domino effect - from creating a following through busking on Portland streets, to raising money and Boy and Bean awareness through Kickstarter, to widespread approval of their debut album, to touring around the country in support of their art and spreading these gorgeous songs like seeds along the way.

Through Boy and Bean, these treasures of the past are now being unearthed from their time capsules and revived in the present.